Peppers
by Courbeau
Summary: Just a hot summer afternoon, and Brennan decides Thai isn't what she wants. Cooking at Booth's house ensues. Oneshot.


Feet pounded down on the sidewalk with little mercy. Muscles flexed easily and smoothly, speeding him along quickly. The methodical thump of his shoes hitting the pavement, accompanied by the beat resounding in his ears made for excellent pacing material. The summer sun beat down upon his shoulders, relentless.

Slowing down, Seeley Booth paused to open the door to his apartment block, dragging his arm across his soaked forehead and slipping inside. 'Runner's High' pulsed through his system as he tugged the earbuds from his ears and jogged up the stairs to his floor.

His lungs expanded and contracted raggedly as he fished in his pocket for the ring of keys that had previously been bouncing around at his quick pace. Once he found them, the key was shoving into the deadbolt unceremoniously and he practically fell in his front door. Booth dropped his music player and keys into the dish by the hall closet. He peered into the kitchen.

The microwave clock read 5:37.

Shit.

Bones was going to be here soon.

Stretching his arms over his head and rotating his shoulders, Booth toed of his shoes and hopped down the hall towards his room, pulling off his socks as he stretched out his quads. Nearly toppling over, he rushed to pull his shirt over his head, letting it drop and moving to take his shorts off. Sweat glistened over the skin of his back as he dropped the offending shorts to the floor by his door.

As long as he showered quickly, he would be out in time to pick up after himself before she got here.

Skidding into the bathroom, Seeley's boxers hit the linoleum just as the water was began to run.

Booth sighed as the cool water hit his body, rinsing the sweat from his skin. Reaching for the bottle on the ledge, he began washing.

This last case they solved had been horrible. Kids. Kids were being killed. Had been killed. Murdered. Horribly. It was gruesome. It had ended up being this foster dad, who had been doing it for over a decade.

Booth scrubbed at his skin, lathered from head to toe.

Bones had taken it rather hard. Booth knew why, but he wished that she didn't think about it so hard. Of course she did, though. Paperwork was finished this afternoon, and they had agreed that Thai food was in order. She would be crossing his threshold in less than ten minutes, armed with take away. And beer, he hoped. He had forgotten to get some.

His eyes fluttered shut, and the water beaded on his skin, gathering and running in rivulets down to the drain at his feet, washing away the evidence of his efforts to forget about the case entirely. Running usually helped. This time was no exception. Booth's muscles sang happily under his skin, bubbling with praise under the water. His body was threatening to become like a cooked noodle if he did not get out of the shower soon.

"Booth?"

Booth jumped about a mile when he heard his name being called as it echoed around the small bathroom suddenly.

"Jesus, Bones! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Brennan rolled her eyes as Booth made a half-hearted attempt to cover himself, but seeing as she couldn't really see anything through the shower curtain, she didn't understand why.

"Well, I just wanted you to know I was here, so that when your exceptional sniper skills picked up on movement in your kitchen, you wouldn't attack me. I didn't want you to fly off the rung, Booth."

"_Handle_. Fly off the _handle_, Bones." It was his turn to swing his eyes upward.

"Oh. Yes. And I promise not to accidently forget the packs of explosives I brought with me in your fridge."

She door clicked shut audibly, and Booth chuckled.

She tried to make a joke. And it was cute.

Booth turned the shower off and grabbed a towel from the stack beside the tub, smile resting comfortably on his face. Humming the last song that played when he was out running, he stepped from the basin and rubbed the towel over his hair and secured it around his hips.

"It's poetry in motion...do do _do_..."

Making his way to his dresser, doing an awkward little jig to his self-generated music, he pulled some fresh boxers from the top drawer and tossed them over his shoulder to his bed. Clean jeans and a shirt followed closely behind.

He spun, breaking into full dance and song, arms outstretched, jabbing with the beat, hips twisting.

"She blinded me with Science!"

"Booth?"

The towel dropped to the floor and Booth froze mid-twist, throwing a glance over his shoulder. His blood had stopped cold in his veins until he realized she was on the _other_ side of a closed door.

"I'll be right there, Bones," Booth stumbled over his words as he pulled his boxers and jeans on quickly, stomach still up in his throat, limbs shaky from the adrenaline rush from the pure horrification he'd just experienced, thinking she'd seen him dancing and singing. He coloured slightly when he spotted his sweaty jogging clothes folded neatly and placed on the corner of his mattress.

"Good. I've done a methodical search of you cupboards and I can't seem to locate..." She drifted back down the hall in the direction of the kitchen, out of earshot.

Booth sighed and pulled the shirt over his head and down over his chest. Running a hand through his hair, he contemplated gel, deciding against it. Forcing himself to recover completely, he looked at his reflection in the mirror on his bathroom door, contorting his face.

Gruff face. _Check._

Happy face. _Check._

Surprised face. _Check._

Taking a moment to consider the five o'clock shadow gracing his jaw, he mentally shrugged and smiled again, jigging his way out of the bedroom. He detoured to the living room, hearing Bones shuffling around in the kitchen, and stopped to turn on the fan in the corner by the window to get some air moving through the stifling apartment. Casting a glance over the room, he fluffed the pillows on his couch and stacked the newspaper from this morning neatly on the coffee table. Using a corner of his shirt, Booth wiped the dust from the TV screen, clearly visible in the late afternoon light shining through his windows. Brushing the fabric down again, he coughed as some of the dust caught in his throat.

"Booth, is that you?" Brennan's voice called, muffled.

"Yeah, Bones. It's me. I forgot to warn you about the pipe bomb I have stored under the sink. I hope you didn't look there."

Booth rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped, staring.

There was his Bones, dressed simply in a white and blue sundress that wrapped around her ribs snugly and clung slightly to her slim frame as it fell down the line of her leg. If she was standing up, it might have fallen to almost her knees.

But she wasn't standing up straight. She was bent at the waist, head in a cupboard, lifting and checking and looking.

Booth's eyes travelled the length of her toned calves and slid up her exposed thighs with ease. The dress, oh the dress, it skimmed the very tops of the back of her legs. It taunted him. He hated that dress right now.

Actually, he envied it.

Which made things worse.

Sticking his hands in his pockets and tilting his head to ceiling, he exhaled quietly, asking God to cut him some slack. Casting his eyes around for a distraction, he spotted her open beer. Swiping it, he took a swig.

"Started without me, huh Bones?"

She emerged from the cabinet quickly after realizing her was right behind her.

"I was thirsty," she turned, "Booth, that's mine! Remember what we talked about? Stop taking my things. Besides, there's more in the fridge." She eyed him, snagging her bottle back and placing it far from his reach after taking a sip of her own. She flashed a half-smile at his pout. "I knew you would forget to pick some up on your way home."

"Hey, the intention was there. I had a lot on my mind," Booth brushed behind her, carefully inhaling her scent and reached for the fridge. "You weren't serious, were you, about the explosives?"

She grinned. "Were you?"

He grinned back and opened the fridge, finding that she had re-arranged his condiments and leftover Wong Fu containers. The smile dropped off his face. "See, Bones? This is why I steal your stuff. Because you always organize my stuff. It's _my_ stuff. Just leave it be, could you? You just always have to get your grubby paws-"

"I organized because I couldn't find anything. And my hands aren't grubby, they're clean; I washed them," She countered, turning toward the counter beside her.

Booth sighed and popped the cap of a cold beer.

That's when he noticed she was slicing vegetables at a cutting board she must have found on her hunt.

"No Thai?" He sounded hurt.

"Well, as I was leaving the lab, I thought about how you always have take-out boxes in your fridge. I was in more of a fresh mood this afternoon. So I stopped by the grocery store to pick up some vegetables. And then I got some beer. Because I knew you would forget," she started pointedly.

Her hair was up in a messy bun, pieces falling from it. It looked still damp from a shower she must have taken before coming over and limp from the heat that was plaguing the city. She was chatting on about her after-work adventures and he watched her mouth move, and the necklace jangle between her breasts. The skin there was dewy; clearly the heat was getting to her, too.

"...and I thought that if I marinated it, it would be more appetizing for you."

She chose that moment to look up, shocking him with her blue eyes. Her face was cracking into a smile.

"What are you marinating? Steak?" Booth snapped out of it quickly, practiced. He leaned up against the fridge with his hip.

"No, Booth. Tofu." She stated innocently, returning her eyes to the work surface. Booth's face contorted and Brennan watched out of the corner of her eye.

"But Bones, you know I hate tofu. It's for vegetarians. I'm not a vegetarian. You know that." Booth stood up suddenly, affronted at the discovery.

Bones handed him a cutting board and a knife, passing him a few stalks of celery and a small bunch of carrots to chop.

"But I tried your burger last week. So it stands to reason that you should try something I eat for once. I had a rather large bite, too, do you remember?" she reasoned, trying to persuade him.

"Of _course_ I remember. That was a good burger, grilled perfectly. And then there was the _cheese_, and the crispy lettuce and the fresh tomato..." Booth drifted off happily, taking another mouthful of beer and setting about cutting up the vegetables in his hands at the counter beside her. "And _then_ you go take this _huge_ chunk out of it and say it's just a burger!"

"_Huge?_ I took a large bite, yes, but I would not call it huge," Brennan protested, slicing mushrooms quickly. "If we were being objective, I might say I sampled it. It was a _medium_ bite. To be accurate in my opinion of the burger, I had to have a taste of everything. The bigger the bite, the better the odds of getting tomato, cheese, burger, onion and whatever else was on it. I was only trying to the burger justice, Booth."

He was chopping forcefully and every once in a while a chunk of carrot would go flying.

"Do the burger justice? It's a _burger_, Bones. I just wanted you to see what you were missing. That's all. You didn't have to turn it into a formal evaluation. I just wanted you to try-"

Booth cut off when a large strip of red pepper hit him in the head, bouncing to the floor innocently. His eyes landed on it, and he looked up at Bones slowly.

Dainty feet, slim calves, odd little knees, toned thighs, rounded hips, narrow waist, gorgeous cleavage, mischievous grin, glinting eyes.

"Did you..." Booth glanced back down at the pepper slice again, and back up once more. "Did you just throw a pepper at me?" His voice was hushed and his eyes glinted back at her.

"A _piece_ of pepper, yes." She raised her chin a fraction of an inch in defiance.

His hand extended and he tossed a piece of carrot at her. A look of mock outrage plastered itself upon her face as the carrot hit her chest and fell into the pocket the dress created over her cleavage.

Suddenly, there were mushrooms and celery and peppers flying. Scuffles could be heard, along with grunts and the tussle came to a halt a mere fifteen seconds later.

The fan in the living room whirred to the left.

Bones had Booth up against the counter, feet on either side of his, standing on tip toe. She was angled over him as he leaned as far away from her as he could, her chest pressed against his. His hands were caught behind him, being smushed into the counter's edge, leaving him helpless. Her left hand was embedded in his hair, holding him still, and her right held a piece of darkly marinated tofu up to his lips. Their breathing came in sharp huffs and Booth grunts as Bones pushes him farther back over the sink.

The fan in the living room whirred to the right.

"Bones," came his whisper, "Don't do it. Don't make me eat it. _Please_ don't make me eat it."

Brennan surveyed him, passing her eyes over his pleading ones, and the pout that extended from under his nose. His eyebrows twitched, and she sighed.

"Fine."

She acts offended, but she's grinning and Booth knows she just wants to laugh. Settling back down on the soles of her feet, she takes a step back, allowing Booth to let the breath he was holding go, only to inhale her scent yet again.

Popping the cube of tofu in her mouth, she licks the soy sauce from her thumb and forefinger quickly before rinsing her hand in the sink.

"You wouldn't make me eat it raw, would you, Bones?" Booth questioned, fighting to keep his biological urges in control. Bones gathers vegetable pieces from the floor and rinses those too, settling them back on the cutting board. He leans against the counter and takes another swig of beer. "It might poison me!"

"Technically, it's cooked, Booth. It wouldn't poison you as long as it hadn't been sitting out long enough to reach the required temperature to grow bacteria. Which it hasn't." Brennan leans against the counter across from him, their toes touching. "It wouldn't hurt you to try it."

His eyes flicked up to her from where they were surveying the magnets Parker had arranged on the fridge door.

"But _Booooooooones-_" Booth whined expertly, widening his eyes again.

She laughed and rolled her eyes, shifting feet.

"Lucky for you, I bought slaughtered cow for _you_."

Booth immediately perks up, his patent-pending Charming Smile sliding into place. She tilts her head and feels the tugging of her mouth too, and she's smiling again. She huffs and moves to the fridge, extracting a covered bowl with strips of meat sitting in dark liquid.

"You did all this while I was in the shower?" Booth asked disbelievingly.

"No. I did this at home so the meat could sit while I got ready before I came over," she threw a glance over her shoulder as she turned at peeled the cling wrap off the bowl.

"Awww, for _me_, Bones?" Booth's head made its way to her shoulder and looked at him.

"Yes. For you, Booth." She smiled and laughed at the look on his face. Like she had just done some great thing, sacrificial in nature.

"Will you have some of this, or will you eat your tofu?"

"I'm going to have tofu, Booth. That's why I brought it." She shook her head.

"Here, I can help. I can cook the meat for you. Well, for me," his chest puffed up a bit at that.

"No, Booth. I can do it. You helped chop stuff. Just find me your wok."

"My wok?"

"Yes. It's like a frying pan."

"I have one of those. I don't have a wok."

"Then get me the frying pan, Booth."

"Okay, okay." Booth rummaged around for the pan and came back up with one, handing it to Bones. Booth hovered, watching her put the pan on the stove, and heat it, throwing in the meat, hearing the pan sizzle ferociously.

"Here, let me-"

"Booth! Just go and sit and take a freeze pill!" She fluttered her hands in the direction of the couch. "I can do it myself."

Booth chuckled and slid from the kitchen, not bothering to correct her this time.

"I can cook it, Bones. You don't eat meat; I do. I would know how to cook the meat better," he prodded, sitting down at the couch.

"Booth, just because I don't eat meat _now_, doesn't mean I didn't at one time. I know how to cook it. It's not that hard. I told you, I can do it _myself_..."

Booth shook his head.

Just another day in the life.

* * *

**Hey folks! I'm back with something else, just a little one-shot. I know, it was kinda pointless. There wasn't plot, I know that. I wasn't meaning for there to be any.  
I know those of you who got alerts and are reading this are people who have me alerted for Gossip Girl stuff, mostly. I'm working on another chapter fic for that, I promise.**

**Just let me know what you thought. Any feedback is good. Characterization? Concept (of what little there is)? Did you laugh? Did you enjoy it at all? Let me know! c:**


End file.
